


Blind Faith

by pandemoniax3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Always Female Dean, Awkward Castiel, Blind Dean, Cheating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human Castiel, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rule 63, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Work In Progress, not enough femfics.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1987785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandemoniax3/pseuds/pandemoniax3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak was having a bad day. When he finds his girlfriend of 6 years cheating on him, he goes out on a drunken stupor, only to be tangled up with the sightless beauty named Deanna Winchester.<br/>Little did he know what he was getting himself into, eventually finding out that she came with endless baggage.<br/>Little did he know, but little did he care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo. Well, I've been a part of the ao3 community for almost a year, and I have read hundreds of fics and ficlets.  
> I am an amateur writer, and I've been writing since... the 7th grade (I'm 20, and a junior in college)?  
> Although I have other stories that are WIP on my hard drive, I try to come back to them as much as possible, so this will be a time consuming WIP.
> 
> This is my first, actual Destiel fanwork, all my other works have Destiel in mind, but I never actually put the names. So I really hope you guys enjoy this.  
> I really like F/M Destiel fics, so I tried this. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had notes and stuff.. but for some reason they got deleted. Oh well.

Castiel Novak was having a terrible day. He’d been having nightmares again recently, making him restless for the past week and a half. When he got up from bed that morning, after tossing and turning for hours, the alarm clock next to his bed was blaring red numbers indicating that it was just passed six. He dragged himself out of bed, rubbing the crust on his dry, red eyes and went to take a shower, only to have the shower run out of hot water. He forced himself to rush through his freezing cold shower, and it really was freezing seeing how it was early November. He quickly got dressed in some thick worn jeans and a thick Henley, packed his wallet and phone into his pocket, grabbing his scarf and navy blue peacoat from the hanger on the door. He stuffed his feet into his boots before trudging to the kitchen to make a piece of toast for breakfast. He was out the door of his small two bedroom apartment by seven-thirty sharp, bleary eyed and exhausted with a to-go thermos in his hand filled with coffee as black as sin, only to find that sometime in the previous night, someone hit the tail end of his most valuable possession, his classic cherry red 1968 Shelby Mustang GT500.

  
“Aw, c’mon…! No!” Castiel had run up to his beauty of a car to assess the damage, deeming it fixable, but was still pissed at the fact that some dickwad hit his car. He scrubbed his face and groaned out into the open sky. “Sonuvabitch,” he murmured under his breath. He clambered into the car, running the engine to warm it up before taking the fifteen minute trek to the garage he worked at, only to have his car break down right down the street from his previous location. Sighing, Castiel tiredly called Bobby, his boss and surrogate father to come pick up his car with a tow truck and to get a ride to work. The process took longer than needed, and once he got to Singer’s Auto, Bobby was grumbling under his breath about the time wasted and how much work there needed to get done, with no malice of course. Castiel half heartedly rolled his eyes on his way to the dingy 2002 Corolla that needed a whole grocery list of fixing up to do, ranging from fixed bumpers, to oil change and brake replacements.  
If he was honest, everything was going good for a while, until he gradually started to get more and more irritated with the accidents and minor injuries he was accumulating throughout the hours of his shift. He was under a junker when his hand slipped on a ratchet driver, and it slipped and hit him in the face. In the salvage yard behind the auto shop, he was digging around only to get his jeans caught on some scrap metal, obtaining a brand new gash on his thigh. He ended up cutting his fingers on some loose metal under the hood of the car he was working on. Why it was there? He wouldn’t know. Oh, and he got punched in the face for all of his troubles thus far when a pissed off customer came in to complain and yell sometime after lunch when he started to attack some of his coworkers at the front desk. Castiel ran in and pulled the asshole off of Dave, which resulted in the shiner he was spotting. Bobby took one look at his tired stance and the dark circles under his eyes and sent him straight home with the rest of the day off, in which Castiel decided to walk home, despite the cold forty-degree Kansas weather.  
So, yeah. Castiel was not having a good day. He checked his watch for the time, noting that it was almost five, which meant his girlfriend, Meghan, was on her way home from work at the local high school as a counselor. This made Castiel relax a little, looking forward to a lazy night on the couch, eating take out, watch some television and possibly making out for a bit. He sighed and changed his route to go through town and follow the familiar sidewalk to her house. She lived closer to town than he did, which meant her house wasn’t too far from either of their jobs. Castiel hung his head low and dragged his feet along the sidewalk of town, hitching up the collar of his peacoat. Tightening his thick, wool scarf, he looked off to the side to see the semi-busy roads of rush hour when his shoulder was shoved roughly to the side by a passerby. Scowling and clearly not in the mood, he looked behind his shoulder and called out,

  
“Hey! Watch where you’re going, Asshole.” The figure stopped and turned around donning a small, smug smile.  
“I would, Sweetheart. If I could see.” Her smirk turned up even more as she pulled up her white stick and waved it slightly from side to side. Castiel swallowed thickly and turned to look closer at the woman with the honey-smoked voice. His breath hitched as he saw the dark sunglasses set on her perfectly sharp nose, smattered with a constellation of freckles. Her skin was naturally tan even in the early winter climate, and her light-pink plump lips were soft looking, if not slightly chapped. She had long, beach-wave, blonde hair that framed her strong, angled chin. “Hey, buddy, you with me? Yeah, I’m blind. Shocker,” she chuckled lightly. Castiel shook his head clear, feeling the warm tell of a blush slowly creeping its way up his neck and ears. He cleared his throat and blew out a small puff of air, realizing that he was staring for too long and keeping silent.

  
“I-I apologize. I hadn’t realized; when it was clearly I who was the one not paying attention.” The woman physically reeled back, eyebrows shooting up nearly touching her hairline; something unsurprisingly common with a lot people who describe his voice as gravelly and deep as if he ate and swallowed rocks for breakfast every morning. He saw the woman smile gently before plastering on her tell-tale smirk again.

  
“It’s fine, Sweet cheeks. Just watch where you’re going from now on, alright?” With a humorous huff, she turned to walk away before Castiel had the opportunity to reply. He now felt bad to top off his bad day. Sighing dejectedly, he turned around to start back towards Meg’s house.

Castiel was freezing his balls off by the time he got to his girlfriend’s house. Her car was in the driveway and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest cavity. He and Meghan have been together for the better part of six years and he loved her wholeheartedly. He loved her heart shaped face, her long, wavy, chocolate brown hair, and her bright, wide hazel eyes. Her smirk was mysterious and her voice dripped with sarcasm and mirth. He sighed happily as he walked up and unlocked the front door with his spare key that she gave him about two years after they first started dating.

  
“Meghan? Babe, you home” he called out? The house was silent when he turned to listen, so he closed the door and toed off his boots at the foyer, choosing to walk around the first floor to look for her. Once he got near the stairs, he heard a loud thud and Meg’s sweet giggle coming from the upstairs. Smiling, he climbed the stairs, turning towards the closed door of her bedroom. This was another thing he loved about her; it was her laugh and her smile that attracted him so. He knew he would have loved to wake up to that smile every morning for the rest of his life. Castiel twisted the door handle, opening it, when his face fell, not expecting at all to see the sight that was before him. Meghan was on her hands and knees, eyes closed with a face adorned with bliss, jaw slack as she moaned whilst being fucked to oblivion from a short, stout man behind her. The man had a look of concentration on his face, with a cigarette loosely hanging from his mouth.

  
“Faster! Harder!” She grunted as the man gripped her hips tighter and pulled her back by the shoulder to shove deeper into her. They hadn’t noticed Castiel until his feet shifted, causing the floor boards to creak underneath him. Both she and the man looked up, jaw dropping with a look of surprise in their eyes.

  
“Fuck! Shit!” Meghan scrambled to push off the bed, kicking the man off of her as he fell onto his ass on the cold floor. Castiel heard the man hiss, not realizing the man fall as he stared at Meg while she pulled the sheets up to cover her nakedness.  
“Bollocks! You said he was at work!” The man on the floor sounded irritated with an English accent, which was rather distinguishable. He’d heard that voice before, whenever Meg would take private calls when on the phone with her boss. Fergus Crowley, principal of Lawrence High. He stood at the doorway and stared, dumbfounded.

  
“I thought he was, too Dumbass! Clarence! I thought you were ending at seven today!” She huffed out in nervous amusement, forcing a placating smile. She slowly started to approach him before he turned away from her voice and ran down the stairs taking three steps at a time. “Clarence! Castiel! My Unicorn!” Castiel ignored the voice, in favor of shoving his sock-clad feet into his boots. Meghan slipped down the stairs, tripping over the wooden floors and the sheets, covered only in a thin layer excuse of modesty. She ran up towards him, reaching out and gripping his arm with one hand, pulling and pleading while the other was clasping the sheets tightly around her small figure, except Castiel couldn’t hear her with the rushing sound of blood running through his ears, muffling any and all noise she made coming from her filthy mouth. Filthy, he’d never thought badly of his lover, but now it was as if the flood gate was released.

  
“How long?” He yelled over her incessant cries. She pulled tighter on his jacket sleeve, making him feel boxed in, smothered. With her silence, he shrugged her hand off. Breathing in deeply, calming himself, he asked again.

“How long, Meghan?” She flinched at his thunderous tone, whimpering as he bore down at her with a stony expression. “One time?” She looked away; his heart quickened. “A month?” Her bottom lip trembled. “A year.” Her bottom lip, being chewed raw. His heart stopped. “Tell me, Meghan. How. Long?” She closed her eyes and sighed shakily.

  
“Four years…” Castiel felt his stomach drop; it was as if all the air was knocked out of his body.

  
“Excuse me?” He felt tears starting to burn behind his eyes and he hardened his heart. He blinked multiple times, blinking back the sadness and betrayal. “Did you just say… four years? How th-… we’ve been together for six years, and you’ve been seeing someone behind my back for longer than you haven’t…” Castiel blinked, looking blankly over her shoulder. His hands blindly, unconsciously went straight for his pockets, pulling out a set of keys. He looked at them before pulling off the spare key to Meg’s house. Tossing it in the air once, twice, he held it and quietly, slowly placed it on the table top next to the door. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if he was trying to speak before swallowing thickly. He didn’t bother to look at her when he silently turned to go out the door.

  
Meg’s face turned from remorseful to a fiery expression. All her sadness turned to anger and hatred towards Castiel as he walked out the door. Despite the cold, she flung herself out the door, chasing him halfway down her walkway and yelling at his retreating back.  
“This is why, Castiel! You are a coward and you will never be the man I once thought you to be! You don’t know what you’re missing now that you’re finally leaving. I’ve been waiting for this day for months. I hope you know that no one will take you, you’re broken and you’re poison, you dick!” She huffed and stormed back towards her door, stopping to yell over her shoulder. “Oh, and you’re a shitty lay!”

  
Castiel kept walking down the road where soft flurries were starting to fall against the cold asphalt. The snow tangled and melted in his nest of hair, falling onto his dark, long eyelashes, but he felt numb and useless; her words stinging his heart but his eyes stayed dry. He realized the irony of the situation and huffed without any amusement. The snow felt cold and numbing on his face, just like his heart was cold, dead and unfeeling, still in his chest. Little did he know his now ex-girlfriend finally allowed herself to curl up and cry as she closed the door behind him; little did he care to feel.

  
Yeah… Castiel was really, really not having a good day. At all.

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“Okay, sweetheart, I think it’s about time to cut you off.” Castiel barely registered the voice coming from the other side of the bar. He shook his head violently, only to clutch at it in regret; he felt dizzy and listless. After he had left Meg’s, he walked around mindlessly for an hour despite the cold, finding himself stumbling towards the refuge of a bar on the side of town. He sought out the warmth of the heater, of the food and of the liquor that he would be drowning in with the rest of the cash he had on hand.

  
“Noooo,” he slurred. “I w’nt ‘nother! Keep ‘em comin’, miss!” He hung his head low, finally feeling the finality of the shitty day he had behind him. Meghan, one of the only friends he had since college and girlfriend since sophomore year, is now gone. He felt so alone and cold and he just wanted to feel numb with all the alcohol flowing through his veins. He vaguely felt another presence in front of him, but he chose to ignore it in favor of eyeing down the wooden top of the bar as if he could set it on fire just with his stare.

  
“Sweetie, you got anyone to come and get you?” The voice was soft, despite the rough, yet smooth edges of the sound; like whiskey. Speaking of which, he wanted more. He scoffed, shaking his head.

  
“N’pe. ‘m all ‘lone now. ‘lw’ys ‘lone…” He let out a sob, covering his mouth with his hand. He couldn’t cry, not in front of this stranger, not in public. He swiped over his face and breathed in shakily. He stumbled to pull out his wallet from his back pocket, thumbing all the cash out and softly placing it on the bar. “Th’nks…” He swayed as he got up, dizzy and inebriated.

  
“Hold on, honey.” He felt a pair of strong hands gripping his shoulder. He looked up between his bangs and saw a pair of soft hazel eyes looking at him in motherly concern. “C’mon.” She pulled him in, wrapping an arm around his back and hauling him to a booth in the corner for him to rest. “I’m calling someone to come and get you. Can’t have you stumbling out and about this late at night, especially without someone to help you this drunk off your ass.”

She left Castiel sitting there, swaying in his seat and he missed the warmth of her arms around him. For so long, Castiel has always been, in a sense, alone. As a child, he and his family moved from place to place, his parents being missionaries, they never were able to settle in one place for too long. He would always transfer into a new school late into the school year, when everyone had their cliques and groups already, leaving him left behind. He didn’t mind, though. He kept quiet to himself and focused as much as he could on his studies and finding solace in a good read. It worked this way until he graduated, the same process, the works. It didn’t help that he was an awkward boy. Ever since before he filled out in his body, he was a gangly boy with too wide eyes and a messy nest of raven black hair. He spoke with such clarity that it put the children off and away from the “strange boy.” He didn’t mind, though. He always thought he was better off alone.

  
As soon as he graduated, he decided to join the army. He focused more on that than on the actual schooling. A couple of years in his servitude, he was deployed to Afghanistan, only to come back with more scars on his heart and on his mind than on his body. Drinking himself into a stupor helped him cope, especially since he kept to himself even out there with no one to talk to at home, but soon enough he pushed himself out of that sinking hole and set off to go to school to get a proper degree in medicine, to help those who have a chance because he couldn’t help those oversees. He met Meghan at the University of Kansas and it just went off from there.

  
“Where’s Sam?…come help? Somewhere to stay… alone… yeah… thanks, hon.” Castiel looked up from his seat when he felt the warmth next to his body. The lady looked down with a pitying smile. He hated it. “I just called someone to come get you. I’m getting them to take you in for the night. I’m not letting you go home alone.” Castiel was about to give a retort, but heaved a great sigh, looking back down at his lap. He nodded dejectedly, realizing he must’ve drunk more than he could handle and he probably wouldn’t have been able to get home without stumbling over and passing out in the street, black out-piss drunk. Minutes passed in a blur with Castiel swaying back and forth in his seat, eyes half-lidded and drooping.

“Well, hello there, charmer.” A familiar voice said. Castiel ignored it, everything sounding warbled and distorted. “Let’s get you somewhere you can sleep this off.” One small hand was wedging itself under his armpit while the other small hand pulled up, trying to help Castiel stand up. “Whoa, there!” He must’ve shocked the small lady by leaning all his body weight onto her side. He looked back towards her face, squinting slightly so the world would stay still for one moment.

  
“Heyyyyyy… I kn’w ‘ou.” He leaned forward even more, nose almost touching. She reeled backwards at the contact and tightened her lips.

  
“C’mon, then.” Her voice was calm and authoritative, but it was soothing to his saddened heart. The world tilted as he was dragged out of the bar and down the street, stumbling along the sidewalk as he leaned against the small figure next to him. A small amount of time passed before he was facing some stairs and then a door. He fell against the woman as she pulled around for a pair of keys. Castiel turned his face from her shoulder into her neck and nosed at her hair, breathing in deeply. She smelled like leather and shampoo, unlike the fruity soap smell Meghan smelled like at all times. He felt tears prickle in his eyes and slowly fall against his cheek as he sniffed in again, enjoying the scent of this nameless woman in front of him as he wrapped his arms around his lithe waist. She silently protested by pushing down against his arms and walking through the threshold of the apartment.Pulling him through the space, she finally stopped inside a room and sat him gently against the bed, making sure he leaned back completely.

“Sorry. My brother isn’t home, hence the reason why I came and got you. I don’t think the little bitch’d appreciate a complete stranger drunk off his ass to be sleeping in his bed. You can sleep here f’r now.” Castiel could hardly hear the controlled tight-clipped tone, followed by a tired sigh. He snuggled into the pillow that apparently magically appeared under his head and breathed in; it smelled exactly like the woman that was now helping him out of his clothes and pulling off his boots and socks. He belatedly realized he was inadvertently kicking the woman out of her own room. He whined quietly as he felt the electric warmth of her hands leave him and the room completely until she came back with a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofens to place on the bedside table, along with a waste basket to put on the side.

  
“You’re going to have one helluva hangover, bud. Sorry t’ tell you.” She sat down on the side of the bed and helped him up onto her lap, forcing him to swallow the pills and the water before laying him back down on his side. “Goodnight, stranger.” As soon as he felt her rise, he gripped her wrist tight.

  
“’m s’rry… I kn’w I’m a f’ck up…” He tightened his grip to almost painful as he held back another sob. “Stay… pl’se?” He tightened his eyes as he felt a few stray tears fall. He heard a quiet, defeated sigh as she moved along to the other side of the bed. He heard the sounds of rustling as she removed all of her clothes. She scooted in and tried to keep as far away from him as possible.

  
“This is still my bed… asshole.” Castiel turned towards her, closer towards the warmth when he heard the clunk of something against the bedside, something he ignored. He finally opened his eyes to see the moonlight shining through the blinds of the room to land on the woman’s face. He recognized that face and his breath hitched at the beauty being illuminated by the pale light. Slowly, his eyes fell, and he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of long, flowing blonde hair and tiny freckles along pale skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayy!!! End of chapter 1.


	2. Heated Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hair tickled his nostrils and the underside of his chin as he curled in deeper, trying to keep hold on the frayed edges of sleep. He tightened his arms around the tiny waist in front of him, breathing in deeply before waking up with a start.
> 
> “Where’s the fire?” Castiel froze mid sleeve when he heard the husky voice affected by sleep. He slowly turned around to see pale half-lidded green eyes peeking out in his general vicinity from the comforter and piles of blankets he hadn’t noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of seems like a filler, but guys; it'll come together, I promise.  
> introducing the Winchester siblings.

Hair tickled his nostrils and the underside of his chin as he curled in deeper, trying to keep hold on the frayed edges of sleep. He tightened his arms around the tiny waist in front of him, breathing in deeply before waking up with a start. He regretted that moment when his head started pounding with the jarring movement, flinching back from the offending sunlight creeping through the blinds. He quickly sat up only to feel his throat tighten and leaned over to the side of the bed and retched up all the alcohol and bile from the pits of his stomach. Luckily, the trash bin next to the side of the bed caught the most of his sick and the spit that was dragging trails from his open mouth. Castiel spit out the offensive taste and moved away from the repulsive smell before he looked up to realize he didn’t know where he was. He looked down when he felt the sheets move against his pale skin and realized his own nakedness; very slowly looking to the spot next to him to see a patch of blonde hair poking out from under the confines of the blanket, breathing in and out softly and evenly in sleep. Even without seeing her face, he knew she was probably very beautiful.

Gently, Castiel lifted the covers, revealing the tan; smooth plain of the woman’s back also naked as he was. His heart stopped and he felt himself breathing in quickly; had he gone out to get drunk and find a woman to share the warmth of a bed with? It hadn’t even been a whole day since he found Meg cheating on him, with Crowley of all people. She always complained about him being some smarmy dick that was a power-hungry bastard and liked to shove people around to accommodate his own needs and wants. His chest tightened and his heart clenched in bitterness. He felt his eyes water and a cry spilling from his closed lips. He tightly pressed the heel of his palm on his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks. He was heartbroken and angry and he felt betrayed by the one love of his life. He felt even worse now that the little red velvet box sitting in his dresser drawer was useless.

Castiel was not a very emotional man. He kept a stoic face at all times and never showed his emotions, causing people to think of him as heartless and a monster at times like this, but really it was because he didn’t know how to express his emotions. He was a soldier and he kept himself moving lest his feelings get in the way of his mission. If anyone who knew Castiel for who he was, they would see that he was utterly, and truly heartbroken. With a shaky sigh, he sniffled wetly and angrily wiped his face clear of sleep and tears. He held his head as it began to pound again and slowly got out of bed. He was angry at himself. He was angry at the fact that his drunken self probably thought it was a great idea as retribution against Meg to go and sleep with a stranger. He tried to think back as to what had happened the night before, but he couldn’t. The whole night was a giant blank in his memory. He hoped the sex was phenomenal, at least and that his drunken self enjoyed the night of debauchery and pleasures of the flesh.

Gently, Castiel got out of bed to not jar his head any more than it has already been. He silently picked up all his clothes from the floor and put them on, leaving his socks and boots for last. His Henley smelled like a bar, of stale beer and cigarettes, and then realized he probably did, too. Tilting his chin downwards, he grimaced when his nose smelled the remnants of the alcohol he had consumed and of the sweat he had dripped throughout work. Yup, he was going to be in need of a shower. And fast. He sat down on the bed to quickly tighten the strings of his boots before standing and patted down his pockets to look for his phone, his wallet, and his keys. Relaxing when he felt them, he swiftly went to find his peacoat and began sliding his arms in the sleeves.

“Where’s the fire?” Castiel froze mid sleeve when he heard the husky voice affected by sleep. He slowly turned around to see pale half-lidded green eyes peeking out in his general vicinity from the comforter and piles of blankets he hadn’t noticed. The figure pushed herself up on her elbows and ran her fingers through her hair, letting it fall and frame her face perfectly. The blanket fell slightly down her chest, revealing the smooth, rounded form of her chest and the light dusty pink of her nipples. If Castiel did not already think she was beautiful before; she would have been a sight to behold with the sun shining down her face. He blinked a couple of times, refocusing his eyes just to make sure. He had recognized this woman; she was the woman he yelled at the evening before. He looked back at her eyes and his breath got caught in his throat. No matter her blindness, her eyes shone a mossy green with clear flakes of brown and gold that could be seen in the distance. Blushing, he recomposed himself.

“Look, Miss. I apologize for my extended stay, but I hope that we had a good time last night and that you enjoyed yourself. But I will show myself out. I have to go… to go to work,” Castiel tried to and failed at lying. He could tell that the lady hadn’t bought his lie when that smirk came across her lips again. He realized that this must be a normal face to make for her.

“Mm… Baby, we had a fantastic time last night.” She emphasized by adding a cock-jerking moan at the end of her statement. Castiel flushed even further as she leaned forward, getting on her hands and knees. She began crawling seductively towards him, eyes lewd and knowing. She stuck out her tongue and licked at her lips, Castiel’s eyes trailing after the pink flesh. It was unnerving in a way, albeit very, very hot, when she began to look him up and down. She stopped at the edge before she busted out laughing. Castiel was frozen in his spot, staring at the woman in both lust and fear, trying very hard to will his semi away. Despite her laughing, he realized that she must’ve been working him up; teasing him. His face lit up a bright shade of red in embarrassment when she stopped. His eyes shot up to look at her, not realizing they drifted down to his shifting feet. He saw her face with a look of concern when she reached up to wipe tears of amusement from her face.

“You still with me, stranger? Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” She chuckled halfheartedly. He could still see in her eyes that she felt bad for stunning him into silence. Shaking his head, he chided himself mentally that she couldn’t see. Clearing his throat, he huffed out.

“Yes… Yes, I’m still… with you.” Castiel never understood colloquial English. Even though he was inching towards the big three-o in a couple of months, his speaking was always stilted and formal which left him in an awkward position at social events.

Both he and the nameless woman sat in an awkward silence, he shuffling on his feet and fiddling with his fingers while she rocked back and forth on her heels. Although she was topless, he could see that she still wore a pair of black, lacey “boy short” panties, all wrapped up with a tiny blue bow in the middle. This was reassurance on Castiel’s part, allowing himself to relax even further knowing that he and this woman had not fornicated. Scowling at himself, he reminded himself to look away and not to be a creepy pervert with his constant staring.

“Just to make sure… we didn’t… you know…” Castiel coughed into his fist to try and stifle the awkwardness. The lady chuckled quietly, shaking her head.

“No… no. We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you mean.” She pointedly graced him with a lopsided grin. “Although… I’m kind of regretting it by the sound of your voice. Bet you’d scream my name so pretty. Oh well, you were probably way too drunk to even get it up.” Castiel flushed, both ashamed and at her crude bluntness. She shrugged before continuing with his lack of response.

“You were a little handsy near the end, though.” He looked from side to side, everywhere but at her knowing, yet unseeing gaze. “I picked you up from the Roadhouse, right down the street. Ellen, the owner, called to see if my brother could come get you, but he wasn’t home; so I went and got you. Took you home, and set you to sleep.” The nausea was threatening to come back and Castiel swallowed thickly, breathing in deeply to calm it down.

“I… I apologize. Really. That is extremely embarrassing…” Castiel began to chew on the meat of his bottom lip. He really wished the ground would just swallow him whole now. After what Meg had told him the evening before; he was convinced that no one would want him. This goddess would definitely not want him, and she was blind.

“We haven’t even gotten on a first-name basis yet, stranger. But we’re already sharing beds and such. Not that I’m complaining.” She winked his way, blindly holding out a hand, midair in his direction.

“Deanna. Deanna Winchester at your service.”  Castiel stepped forward and gripped her hand. She had a firm grip, which was a respectable thing to him.

“Cas—…” He was interrupted when the door swung open to reveal the tallest man Castiel had ever seen.

“De!” The man’s voice boomed in the quiet of the room. He was a monster of a man, standing tall and broad shouldered at 6’4”. Even with the v-neck t-shirt he was wearing, Castiel could see, and appreciate, the bulging muscles from this well-sculptured body. Looking at the man’s face, he had chin-length, floppy, brown hair and a sharp, chiseled jaw. His eyes shown between a bright hazel and a light green, almost like Deanna’s, as he looked around and saw said woman on her knees, half naked.

“Aw! Oh… Oh, God!” He swung an arm up to cover his face, reaching out with one hand to cover his point of view. “De! Put some clothes on!” Castiel’s heart pounded. He was wondering what relationship this man had to the gorgeous Deanna, and if it was a relationship that he would have to get ready to run for. He felt as if the whole world was laughing and mocking him; being caught in an ironical position of “cheating” with this woman’s boyfriend when the previous night he caught his girlfriend cheating on him with her boss. Castiel heard Deanna cackling in the background while the man was yelling at her; he hadn’t realized that he zoned out for a moment.

“Jo told me that you picked someone up from the Roadhouse last night! I didn’t realize you were going to sleep with him!” Castiel flushed at the mentioning of explicit activities that haven’t actually happened.

“N-No. We never…” He stammered, stilling when the tall beast whirled around to look at him with undivided attention. The man’s eyebrows pinched together as he looked between pissed and concerned. Castiel heaved a great sigh before continuing. “Deanna and I did not have… sexual relations with one another.” Castiel could’ve sworn that the man looked even more concerned, if not confused. His face scrunched up even more before he closed his eyes in amusement. He tried to hide the growing smile on his face, which confused Castiel. He heard Deanna groan in the background, looking back at her as she buried her face into her arms, leaning into the bed.

“Oh my God, Cas.” _Cas?_ No one had ever really given him a nickname, minus Meghan who called him Clarence. Even up until today, he had no idea who Clarence was. “Very funny, Bill. Trying to stave off my giant, little brother with your bad puns?” Castiel looked between the two of them and breathed out, realizing that they were siblings. He was surprised that both of them looked to be like a Greek god and goddess, respectively. He hadn’t realized what was funny between the two of them who were still giggling like little children.

“I do not understand what you find so funny? Who’s Bill?” They both stopped at the same time, looking at one another before staring openly at Castiel.

“Who’s Bill? Bill Clinton? 42nd President of this great nation? Monica Lewinsky?” Castiel stared at Deanna, blankly and unknowing still of what they were talking about.

“Bill Clinton, yes. I know him, but why is this so funny?” The man laughed even harder besides Castiel, wiping tears from his eyes as he clutched his stomach.

“Ohhhh, De… and here I was, concerned that you were in trouble. You get this guy instead.” Castiel sat there confused and embarrassed. They were laughing at him and he was getting fidgety and uncomfortable in their presence. He was close to passing the tall man and just leaving them to their mockery.

“Shut up, Bitch!” Deanna yelled from her bed as she got up, slowly toeing her feet against the floor to pick up clothes.

“Jerk,” was the retort from this tall man who approached Castiel with a hand. “Sam. Sam Winchester.” Castiel hesitantly approached the man, gripping his hand with a firm shake.

“Castiel. Castiel Novak.” The man’s, Sam’s, eyes lit up and a smile gradually shone on his face.

“Like the angel!” Castiel looked up in surprise, nodding slowly with a small smile. Deanna scoffed behind them, clipping on her bra as she muttered under her breath.

“Nerd.” Castiel looked behind to look at her nose wrinkling. “Cas-ti-el. Casti-el. Cas… Cas works just fine.” Said man was surprised at the low chuckle coming from his own mouth.

“Cas is just fine, Deanna. I-I’ve never had a real nick name before.” The siblings looked at the man in the middle with shock before quickly masking it with small tilts of their mouths. All three stood in their respective spots silently for a couple of seconds, Castiel pursing his lips and itching to go. “Well, I will take my leave. Thank you for your hospitality, Deanna. Goodbye, Sam.” Sam looked as if he was about to protest, but Castiel gave a curt nod ending the conversation. As he turned to leave, he felt a small, yet vice-like grip on the back of his jacket.

“Wait, you’re just going to crash and leave?” Castiel turned to see pale green eyes looking up at him with a masked expression. He furrowed his eyebrows. He just wanted to go home and just forget about everything for the rest of the year. “Stay… for breakfast at least!” At the sound of breakfast, although still hung over, his stomach let out a vicious growl in hunger as an answer. Deanna smirked as he silently nodded, still forgetting that she couldn’t see.

“Okay. I’ll stay for breakfast.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam grinning to himself before turning to head towards the kitchen.

 

“You-You can take a shower… if you want.” Castiel turned to look at Deanna fully. He smiled softly at the soft blush that was covering her cheeks, quietly chuckling at the faux-nonchalance covering her face.

“That would be nice, Deanna. Thank you.” She relaxed slightly, and squeaked, scrambling around to go find the necessary things for his shower. He watched her retreating back, marveling at her gracefulness as she knew exactly where to go for towels and extra clothes. Castiel began to remove his jacket and scarf, not realizing how hot it got during that little moment between the three. He toed off his boots and placed them neatly by the bedside table, waiting for Deanna to return. As if on a schedule, Deanna rushed in with a pile of towels, a toothbrush, a pair of boxers, sweats and a t-shirt, looking around from the spot where she stopped.

“The boxers and toothbrush are from a brand new pack. The shirt and sweats are Sam’s, so sorry if they’re a little bit big.” She fidgeted, shifting her weight from side to side. Silence. “Cas?” Castiel hadn’t realized he was staring, again. He couldn’t help himself. Deanna was beautiful and she just somehow drew him into some sort of a trance.

“Yes, I apologize. Thank you, Deanna.” She jumped slightly before turning and looking towards his voice. She gave him a small, private smile before hesitantly walking towards his position. She pushed out the bundle of items in her hands waiting for Castiel to take them.

“Thought you left us for a moment there.” Castiel took the things from her grasp, fingers touching slightly before she retracted her arms like she was burned. “Yeah, well… I’ll leave you to it.” She practically ran out of the bedroom before Castiel had time to process what had happened. Quietly, he held onto the items and crossed over, grabbing the trash bin, too and heading over to the much needed shower. He placed the things by the sink and discarded the contents in the bin before rinsing it out. He filled it with bleach to soak before stripping down to clean himself of all the filth from the past 24 hours. He brushed his teeth while waiting for the water to heat up and stared at his reflection. He hadn’t realized how terrible he looked. His hair was messier than usual, greasy and streaky with bags hanging dark and low under his eyes. His eyes were blood shot red and they were half lidded, not to mention the black and blue bruise that ringed and accented his blue eyes. He looked extremely tired for his age; like he had a couple of rounds with Hell and Hell won. Feeling the steam rise from the shower, he stepped under the hot stream of water reveling in the feeling of the orgasmic pressure; better than the shitty pressure he had in his shitty apartment. He stood still under the water, finally feeling all the feelings rushing in and slamming him so hard, he had to grip the wall tight to keep himself upright.

Minutes passed and Castiel felt his stomach clench in hunger. Quickly, he shampooed and rinsed out his hair and scrubbed his skin raw with soap until he was pink, focusing on the streaks of engine oil on his arms and under his fingers. Once he felt clean, he turned off the shower and stepped out tiredly. His legs started to feel weak and shake from hunger, so he quickly rubbed his hair and dried in order to dress, leaving the used towels folded and resting on the toilet seat cover. Walking out of the bathroom, he was hit with the smell of pancakes, bacon and coffee and he unconsciously drifted towards the smell. It must’ve been because of his drunkenness the night before, not being able to admire the apartment he stepped out into, but he loved the display of the living room he walked down the hall to see. There were dark, cheery oak bookcases shoved in the corner of the room, filled to the edges with books and mismatched green couches. The coffee table set in the middle of the room was covered in papers and beer bottles. The television was shoved against the far side of the wall facing towards the kitchen with a cabinet and record player sitting on top. There was a desk shoved on one of the sides of the walls with a computer and a strange box sitting atop with a pile high of records. Walking further through, he saw the movement of two people bustling around what seemed to be the kitchen.

Sam was sitting at the small dining table, sipping at his coffee while sifting between a textbook and a daily newspaper in his hand. He tilted his head in confusion, smelling the food that was apparently there but not seeing it. Sam looked up and smiled at Castiel before tilting his head towards the kitchen.

“There’s coffee on the pot if you want. De is almost done with the food, so just sit tight.” Castiel’s eyebrows shot up when he realized that Deanna was indeed the one cooking. He crossed the kitchen threshold and watched the small five-foot-six-inches woman work her way around the stove, clad in only her panties and an oversized shirt. She must’ve heard him walk in because she stepped off to the side and opened a cupboard, pulling out a mug and filling it with freshly brewed coffee.

“Do you take cream or sugar?” She turned to ask over her shoulder.

“No, thank you. I like my coffee black.” He stepped towards her as she turned to hand him his coffee, which he took gratefully.  Sipping it, he moaned appreciatively as the brew dripped down his throat and felt the warmth course through his veins.

“This is delicious, Deanna.” Deanna hummed as she turned back to flip over the pancakes and work on the scrambled eggs. The bacon was already sitting on a covered plate, draining of oil.

“Thank you… Deanna.” Castiel coughed awkwardly. He barely knew this woman, yet she took him into her home and was now feeding him. He saw the slight shrug of her shoulders as she plated the rest of the food.

“Well… what can you do? Ellen must’ve really thought you were in need of company. Said you were… never mind. Help me set the table?” Deanna reached upwards and pulled out three plates from the cupboard and a couple of forks from a drawer, grabbing the plate of pancakes on her way out. Castiel moved out of her way, going to pick up and balance the plate of eggs and bacon with his cup of coffee as he walked out to set the food on the table. It was all really domestic and it made his heart flutter. He bitterly realized that he never had that with Meg, not really. He pushed that thought out of his mind as he sat down and waited for his hosts to plate their own food first before beginning on his.

At first, it was a bit awkward, but then conversation started. They asked him questions about his family, his pain-in-the-ass siblings, whom he missed quite terribly at the moment…

_“Like Sammy here. Pain in my ass.”_

_“Shut up, Jerk.”_

_“Bitch.”_

They also asked about what he did for a living.

_“I’m a mechanic at Singer’s Auto.”_

_"No, shit! You work with Bobby?” Deanna and Sam grinned together at Castiel._

_“Yes, you know Bobby?” Both siblings nodded excitedly._

_“Grew up with the old bastard. He and Ellen are practically husband and wife.”_

_“Yeah, he took care of me and De when Dad was out working odd jobs.” That earned Sam a nudge against the side. Castiel had noticed them ignoring the giant elephant in the room and thought better of it to not ask about it. It wasn’t any of his business where their mother was, and if it had been, he would’ve waited for Deanna to tell him. Still, he wondered._

He enjoyed the setting, honestly. They all laughed and smiled and enjoyed each other’s company. It was when Deanna had to ask the one question he was avoiding the whole meal.

“So… what happened?” Castiel’s hand froze midway to his mouth, trying to fork in a piece of pancake. He silently set the fork back down and looked to Sam who looked tensed and a bit peeved at his sister. She kept going on, though.

“It’s only… what, Wednesday? And you’re getting blind drunk in the middle of the week?” Castiel tightened his jaw, grinding his teeth.

“That does not seem to be any of your business…” Deanna scoffed as she forked a piece of bacon in her mouth.

“Any of my business? I carried you to my home at 1 in the morning as you groped at me and cried on my shoulder. I think I do deserve some answers.” Castiel began seething, but he breathed in and placed on a fake smile.

“I think it is time for me to leave. Thank you for breakfast. It was rather delicious.” He stood up and walked back to Deanna’s room, changing quickly back into his clothes and shoving his feet in his boots. He pulled his coat and scarf on and swiftly walked back out. Deanna was sitting in the same spot with a look of annoyance on her face and Sam was looking at her with irritation. He walked up towards the table, eyeing the door that was behind Sam’s seat.

“Thank you… f-just… Thank you.” He curtly nodded at the two of them before passing the table and walking out the door. If he heard the heated argument between the two siblings, he ignored it, and kept moving on. If he felt a slight tinge of longing in his heart, well… no one had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I swear these look longer on Word.  
> But Yay! You reached the end of Chapter 2, and I really do hope you enjoy it.  
> At first it's discouraging when I see no change in the status of my story, but well, it's my first time.  
> I'm working on the third chapter, and since I am taking finals this coming Tuesday, it'll be a couple of days before I strap down and actually work on it.
> 
> Thank you!  
> kudos/comments, please (;


	3. In a Blink of an Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel mentally damned the other guys as he sulked and stewed in his own self-pity and loathing. Everything was not okay and the only thing he was looking forward to, and not even really looking forward to, was his brother flying down and comforting him with a movie and buckets of Phish Food, Half Baked and Cookie Dough ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun DUN DUNUNNUNUN.  
> I know it's late; but I never promised anything. (:  
> Just finished summer semester, (With A's!) and I've been caught up with reading fics and playing Vindictus all over again. (I know. Loser.)
> 
> But here is chapter 3; I hope you enjoy it. I wasn't so sure about this one, but I'm still mapping out this story out completely in my head, so bear with me.
> 
> Introducing a couple of characters, y'all. Enjoy it. I command it.  
> And also, I wrote this/published at 4 in the morning. Be kind.
> 
> Oh, and this is unbeta'd.  
> All mistakes are my own, of course.  
> Oh, and I have on idea what I'm typing, so just... nod your head and smile. thanks.

Castiel sighed shakily as he walked down the sidewalk. He recognized what part of the city he was in, estimating it to be about a 20 minute drive just to get home, so he set off the opposite way, towards work; which should’ve been about 10 minutes away. It was still very early, the sun slightly peeking from behind the trees. Pulling out his phone, he checked to see that there were no calls or messages left for him. Even though it was normal for him, he couldn't help but feel a stab of hurt in his gut that his girlfriend, no, sorry… his _ex_ -girlfriend hadn't even bothered to try and get in touch with him about the whole situation. His phone blacked out from disuse, so he pressed the home button again to check the time. It was barely 7:30, but he thought it would be late enough for the call he was about to put in. Working furiously on his phone, he finally pulled out the number and pressed dial, waiting for the voice to pick up on the other end.

 _“This better be good, little brother.”_ The voice sounded tired, a huge contrast to how it usually sounds due to the permanent state of a sugar induced high. _“It’s only… seven thirty!?”_ Castiel smiled sadly to himself at the sound of his big brother’s voice.

“Gabriel…” His voice cracked near the end, instantly alerting the man on the other phone that his kid brother was close to tears.

 _“Cassie? Castiel, what’s wrong?”_ Castiel could hear the rustling of bed sheets from the other side of the phone.

“I apologize, Gabriel… I just… I just did not know of anyone else I could call…” He breathed out and pinched the bridge of his nose, rather wanting to relish in the feel of pain than the feel of tears.

 _“Cassie. Bro, what happened?”_ The concern in Gabriel’s voice made him smile wider, laughing out in amusement and appreciation. He really did love his brother, despite how much of a pain in the ass he was; and still is. _“Why are you laughing, asshole? I’m going to kill you if this is one of yours joke. Which, are not funny by the way.”_

“Meg cheated on me. Or has been cheating on me… for the past four years.” Castiel spat it out like it was rotting in the corners of his mouth. Silence met him on the other line. “Gabriel?”

 _“That_ bitch! _No one messes with my baby bro! I’ll kill her the next time I see her; I’m serious Cassie. I will strangle her until she cries Uncle, and then I’ll strangle her some more!”_ Castiel’s chest puffed out in pride. His brother, although he was a threatening height of 5’7”, he could be rather intimidating when he was pissed off. Tears still fell from the corner of his eyes, however. Gabriel continued unknowing of his brother’s condition. _“Y’know what though, Cassie? I’m glad you dumped that bitch. Never liked her much…_ and _she gave me the heebs.”_ Castiel barked out laughing, mixed between sadness and adoration for his brother.

“Thank you, Gabriel. Really, thank you… I've just… I've just been so stressed lately and I’m so _tired_ of it all… I-I miss you, big brother.”

 _“Aww, Cassie. You flatter me!”_ Castiel could hear his brother humming on the end of the receiver before he yelled out triumphantly at an inappropriate level of loud. Luckily, he caught the first sound and pulled the phone away from his ear. He heard his brother speak into the phone but not hearing him.

 _“… over for Christmas!”_ Castiel pulled a face, confused to all hell as to what Gabriel was talking about.

“Sorry, what did you say?” His brother sighed heavily into the phone like it was such an inconvenience for him to repeat everything.

 _I said… that I should fly down for the Thanksgiving break, and stay until Christmas!”_ Castiel’s eyes opened widely in apprehension. He loved his brother, but it was still his brother. He could take the happiest of moments into a trick or even one’s worst nightmare. Like his older brother, Michael and Hester’s wedding. He still had nightmares about the unfortunate mishap of confetti and cake toppings. Castiel shuddered.

 _“Castiel? You with me, bucko?”_ Shaking his head, he nodded.

“Yes, Gabriel. But that is unnecessary. What about your shop? What about the club?” Gabriel had left the household when he had turned 18. He couldn’t stand the oppressive and conservative lifestyle of their parents because it clashed too much with his wild and free nature. And Gabriel was just that; a free spirit. Even though Gabriel was turning 36, he still acted like a child at times, playing tricks and bouncing around due to a sugar-induced high.

After leaving his home, he barely stayed in contact with the family, but he watched out for Castiel as much as possible; keeping his contacts in reach. He loved Castiel the best, even though he would never say it out loud. Leaving home, he worked his way through college doing odd jobs; whether it is janitorial or working at the local toy shop. Eventually, with a bachelors’ in business and a press of good connections; he started his own candy joke shop called _Trickster_ and over time, a nightclub called _Heaven._ A sort of homage to his familial background.

Castiel heard a wrapper crinkling in the background and he sighed exasperated in his brother’s antics.

“Gabriel. It’s only…” pulling his phone away to check the time, “…7:45... How are you not diabetic, yet?” His brother only laughed in the phone.

 _"I’ve got my ways, baby bro. But, in regards to the shop and club? I can just get Kali to take over for me for the time. She’s my number two, remember that.”_ Once Castiel returned from Afghanistan, Gabriel did all he could to keep in contact with his baby brother. He helped Castiel bounce back on his feet with as much support as he could muster with distance in their way. With Gabriel’s booming business, there was no high opportunity cost in him leaving his long on-and-off girlfriend to the business. Kali is her name. Kali Sharma had the attitude of a royal and a fiery look that could turn anyone who looked upon her into a smoldering pile of ash. Gabriel worshipped the very ground she walked on, but he was also the only one who didn’t fall for her shit.

Castiel rubbed his face, exasperatedly before dropping it limply at his side.

“Fine… Fine, just… just let me know when you’ll get here.”

“I’ll be there next week, bucko. Already booked a flight. I’ll call you later, Cassie.” Castiel rolled his eyes. Only his brother could pull something off like this without a second thought; it was kind of endearing.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.” And then the phone let out the robotic dial tone, indicating the end of the call.

 

The walk to the auto shop took longer than Castiel anticipated. Halfway there, he couldn't feel his fingers, so he decided to drop by a small, local cafe for a cup of coffee. He didn't need the caffeine, but he could do with a little pick-me-up and warmth. The coffee was good, but it wasn't as good as the one he had at Deanna’s just an hour earlier. It was hard to get her out of his mind despite only having met her twice. It was as if she imprinted herself into his mind and heart. No, not the heart. Scratch that.

Castiel thought about Deanna as he waited through the lines to pick up his small, dark coffee and on the whole walk to Bobby’s shop. He thought about her as he worked and he thought about her as he almost hit himself in the face with a falling wrench. Again. He banged his head against a pipe instead as he gracelessly dodged the wrench, adding a large bump to complement the giant bruise. He was going to end up belly up on this job from his carelessness and slippery grip.  If anyone was asked, they could see that Castiel was out of it. Dave, face swollen and bruised, was in between grimacing in pain and smiling mockingly at Castiel for his ditsy behavior who just shrugged it off. Garth on the other hand, was cooing and trying to get Castiel to _“spill the beans, man. Who’s the chick?”_

Castiel liked Garth. He was a tall, scraggly fellow with wide blue eyes and big ears to match. He was always smiling come morning or night and he was just a bouncy ball radiating happiness. Garth always liked to introduce himself to people as _“Garth. Garth Fitzgerald the IV.”_ He also had the alcohol tolerance of a fish. So, otherwise none. Garth was very sweet, albeit strange, with what Castiel thought was a secret sock fetish; evidence pointed towards the trying-to-be inconspicuous hand sock puppy named Mr. Fizzles hanging from his back pocket.

In response to Garth, Castiel was going to kindly remind him of Meg, but with a scowl remembered that that was not the case. Not anymore at least. So instead, he responds with a _“there is no…_ chick _, Garth.”_ After a couple of hours, even Bobby became concerned about him. He approached Castiel just as he was pulling out from under a junker with a pinched face hiding from under his old, ratty trucker cap.

“You okay, boy?” Castiel sighed, wiping his hands on a ratty old rag that must have been white at some point before squinting up at the brighter-than-usual November sun to help ease the pain from behind his dry, hungover eyes. It could also be because he was avoiding eye contact with his boss, but who’s to say it was otherwise?

“I am perfectly fine, Mr. Singer.” Bobby huffed while readjusting his cap.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you to call me Bobby, y’ idjit.” Castiel smiled softly, stopping himself by chewing on his bottom lip. Blushing, he nodding slowly.

“Well then, _Bobby_. I am perfectly fine.” He could hear Bobby’s low chuckling, something that was never really a thing. Bobby wasn’t that old, and he might look a little rough around the edges, but Castiel knew that Bobby was a big old softy at heart. Finally looking at Bobby’s face, Castiel could see the soft look pointed at him.

“Look, kid… the guys are saying there’s something wrong with you. You might say you’re fine, but obviously you’re not. Now, if the guys are saying something, then obviously I have to go and check it out. You hear me?”

Castiel mentally damned the other guys as he sulked and stewed in his own self-pity and loathing. Everything was _not_ okay and the only thing he was looking forward to, and not even really looking forward to, was his brother flying down and comforting him with a movie and buckets of Phish Food, Half Baked and Cookie Dough ice cream. His brother might have bothered him a lot, but he was also one of the only members of his family that really cared for him. Michael always had it out for him, to keep him in line with their parents’ teachings and morals; to be the perfect soldier; it’s a wonder as to why Hester married him. But then again, she was always the same way; a perfect match made in heaven. Anael, or Anna, was always absent, rebelling in her own way and partying; being out of the house for days at a time without anyone knowing where she was. Except, no one bothered her about her antics; the family pinned it down to her hormones getting the best of her and that she’d shed the phase eventually. And then there was poor little Castiel. The soldier, the youngest who was supposed to look up to his eldest and parent-figures; Michael included when his parents would be gone for weeks at a time when travelling with the family was impossible. Never in his life has Castiel ever taken control of his life, and because of that; it cost him. He was awkward, he had terribly, rusty social skills, and now he was lonely with no friends or family to lean on – except Gabriel. He can always count on Gabriel.

Blinking, Castiel hadn't realized he was staring at Bobby who was looking at him like he was from another dimension; he might as well have been. Coughing, Castiel fidgeted with his hands and looked down at his toes.

“Yes, Bobby… I-I _hear_ you…” Clearing his throat, he changed topics. “So… I met Sam and Deanna… they said they knew you?” Bobby’s face changed from a look of concern to a look of fondness at the mention of the siblings’ names.

“You met those two knuckleheads?” Bobby smirked before scratching at his scruffy beard. “Raised the two of them while their daddy was out working a job... I haven’t seen them in a couple of weeks…” he muttered to himself. Castiel felt the itch to ask about their mother, who has been neglected to be mentioned about twice already in a day, but he felt as if it was none of his business. There must’ve been something that showed on Castiel’s face because when Bobby came back into view, he was giving him a pointed look, raised eyebrows and all.

“Spit it out, boy. You want to know about their mother, don’t you?” Pouting at his tell, he nodded lightly. Narrowing his eyes, Bobby continued.  “She ain't dead; best get that thought out your head. She’s fine and kickin’, just comes and goes, but that’s all I have to say about that.” Castiel pursed his lips and nodded dejectedly.

“You going to see those two idjits anytime soon?” Surprised, he hadn't thought about it… Was he going to see them anytime soon? He didn't really know the Winchesters, nor did he have any sort of affiliation with them other than meeting under terrible circumstances. He had no way of contacting them, nor did they really acknowledge if they had some sort of relationship, if anything a perverted form of a friendship. His time with the Winchesters was a big pity-fest and misunderstanding, so no; he didn't think he was going to see them anytime soon.

Castiel shook his head, swallowing around the tight feeling in his throat.

“No, sir. I probably won’t.” Bobby looked straight at Castiel, narrowing his eyes some before nodding.

“Okay, but if you do; tell those idjits to give me a call.” Just as he finished, a dark silver Jaguar coupe drove in through the narrow scrap yard, bringing the attention to it instead of on Castiel. He relaxed slightly, when Bobby turned around completely to greet the petite, blonde lady coming out of the car. He turned around and called over his shoulder, “Once you’re done with this, you can take the rest of the day off.” Castiel nodded and watched Bobby approach the woman. She was really beautiful with long blonde hair, a small body with a gorgeous smile. She had a very mother-like air to her as he walked and gave Bobby a hug. Once she pulled off her sunglasses and brushed them up into her hair, Castiel saw the bright green eyes flicking over to him as she nodded to him in a greeting and talking in a whispered hush before walking behind the pile of cars towards Bobby’s house.

Castiel shook his head out of his trance and turned back towards the junk car he was working on. As he laid back down, he could hear Bobby talking as he walked with the woman,

“It’s so good to see you again, Mary.” Tinkering away, he ignored the interaction between the two and he thought nothing of it.

 

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Castiel was walking around in a daze, wandering aimlessly around the streets of Lawrence. It was barely past 1 and his shifts at the garage usually ended around 5:30, but if he ended earlier, he would go to Meg’s; which is an impossible choice now. Sighing dejectedly, Castiel kicked at the rocks near his feet as he dragged his feet, scowling at all the memories he had with Meg. The numbing feeling was still there, but it was slowly ebbing away to anger and resentment. He had never had a relationship and he never knew that his first girlfriend—his first love—could betray him and leave him to pick up the broken pieces. He hated dating, he concluded. Chuckling to himself, he tried to remember if he was ever really happy with the bitch. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, but right at that moment, he questioned if he ever really truly loved her, too.

 

_Sitting alone in the front corner of the spacious room, Castiel slowly unpacked his things from his backpack and neatly organized them in their proper spots on his desk. People were gradually filling up the large lecture hall, talking amongst friends and peers as they waited for the professor to come and start off the class. It was an Introduction to Religious Studies course, something that Castiel took for an easy elective course and a class that would probably incline his parents to stop pestering him about his slowly declining lack of faith. In truth, it was. Half the things he saw when deployed made him believe that God had no part in the shortcomings and the end game of mankind._

_Crouching, Castiel and his team were maneuvering their way around the tiny little village that was being used as a small base for a group of renegade Taliban. He kept low, sweat dripping down his back and into his eyes, hair sticking to his nape and the front of his forehead from the sweltering heat as he kept an eye out for enemies. Fires were set and the thick, black smoke quickly filling the air was burning his eyes. Castiel tried his best to blink back the tears and the pain as Balthazar tapped his shoulder and signaled silently towards the building they were approaching. Keeping in the shadows and to the sides of the buildings, he and the rest of their platoon found themselves in a blind spot, hiding from the entrance of the building, sidling up against the closed walls around it. As Castiel checked his gun for the millionth time, he looked up to Balthazar for his signal before he heard it. It was a cry, a plea, being repeated over and over again from a woman huddled in the corner of a stable holding a limp child, bleeding from his forehead. At that moment, Castiel’s heart broke, but he kept his emotions intact; this was an important mission and he had to save these people._

_Frank Devereaux, the smartest intel analyst and linguist, looked over and caught Castiel’s eye. He leaned forward prompting Castiel to lean in to hear him._

_“Poor woman. She won’t find any help from sitting there and crying.” Frowning, Castiel turned to look Frank in the eyes, beckoning the question._

_“What is she saying?” Frank stood there, solemnly shaking his head._

_“Oh God, Oh God, why is it that you forsake us… God can’t help her now.” With a low whistle, Balthazar called their attention; it was beginning…_

_From the corner of his eye, Castiel saw leather, shaking him from deep within his thoughts. Looking up, he noticed dark, red lips formed in a smirk and honey brown eyes perfectly traced with black eyeliner gazing down at him. Castiel frowned as he looked around and noticed that most, if not all, seats were still empty. Clearing his throat, he matched her eyes in her staring contest._

_“Can I help you?” If anything, the girl’s smirk grew even more, making her appear almost predatory; ready to catch her prey and eat it up._

_“My name is Meg. Meg Masters. Do you mind if I sit here?” Before Castiel could reply, she sat right next to him, scooting her chair up closer to crowd him in towards the wall. Propping her elbow up on the long table, she turned her head and rested her temple against her fist. “Well, what’s your name, Angel?” Castiel barely withheld an eye roll before turning back to face forward._

_“My name is Castiel… Castiel Novak.” Castiel looked straight forward, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes boring into the side of his head. He began to fidget and mess with his hands, messing up and reordering the things placed in front of him as he cautiously avoided her gaze. He could hear her chuckle from his side, something dark and beautiful that pushed all his avoidance away. He turned to see this girl-Meg-give him a bright, wide smile. It made his breathe catch and his heart to skip a beat. He focused better, admiring her beauty and her bad girl attitude. Cocking his head to the side, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion._

_“What is so funny?” Meg laughed even more, trying to hide her laugh and smile behind the back of her hand. Shaking her head, she slowly began to calm._

_“It’s nothing, Clarence. But, I feel like we’re going to be great friends.” Winking, she turned to face the front as the professor came and began to introduce himself, passing out the stack of syllabi in his hands. It took a minute to realize, but Castiel eventually asked himself; “Who’s Clarence?” It must have been said out loud because before he knew it, he heard laughter from the students around him and he blushed under the scrutiny of his professor, clearly disapproving of being interrupted while calling out role._

If it wasn't for his stomach, Castiel would have kept walking around aimlessly for another few hours, clearly not in the mood to go home where he’d eventually have to start packing up boxes of Meg’s things. Over the course of the past couple of years, Meg had found her way to make even the tightest crevices of his dingy apartment to fit her needs. In his mind, it just worked. He could still see her, them together, as he pops the big question. He could still see them closing in on a deal on a house, white picket fence, a dog and two and a half kids. He could see them building up on a 401K, putting their kids through college, having grandchildren and growing old. They would grow old together, still in love like he believed they were still in college. Eventually, they would die. They would die old and in each other’s arms, wrapped tightly around one another because even in death, they were too much in love to be afraid that they wouldn't be with each other even in the afterlife. But alas, Castiel couldn't have that. He could have and hold onto the dream of the apple pie life with his college sweetheart; the girl who he believed saved him, to the furthest extent of her abilities, from his past.

Castiel came to a stop, a delicious scent catching his attention, wafting in big waves from the building right in front of him. Looking up from the asphalt, he noticed the little hole-in-the-wall shop called _Café_ _Purgatory_. Castiel lifted an eyebrow, amused at the more-than-unorthodox name of the little shop he was finding himself walking into. The scenery caught his eye, being a little rustic and quaint with the dim lighting by branch-designed chandeliers and Christmas lights dangling the corners, along with the dark, wooden floors. All the tables were matching in both material and colour with a mixture of green and grey tablecloths. The ceilings and walls were covered in green and shrubbery, the whole picture looking more like a petrified forest than it did a delicious smelling café.

It was rather warm inside the shop, a blessing from the harsh cold he suffered in a subdued state of mind. His cheeks lit up, both from the change in temperature and a change in ambiance as he felt himself relax a little from the pent up stress. He didn't know why, but everything just felt so… natural and so _pure_ , reverting himself to his childish and most basic human need of feeding. He was starved, not eating anything since the many hours prior with the beauty, Deanna, and her beast of a brother, Sam. Quickly, Castiel approached the counter, ordering himself a cup of an exotic Spiced Mandarin Oolong Tea and an all-natural turkey and cheese sandwich made with organic, fresh vegetables and freshly baked whole wheat bread. It fit well into the whole theme of “nature.” In just a few minutes, Castiel found himself weaving through the tables and the very small crowd to find an empty booth. People who were already seated were lounging with their companion of comfortably sitting in the corner, hugging a cup of steaming whatever and following the words of a book perched against their table top.

Sitting down and pulling out his phone, Castiel was silently praying and hoping that Meg would contact him soon so they can make an agreement in how everything was going to work from now on. He didn’t want to add stress to his already shitty week, and he wanted to be civil about it; simple as that. It didn’t take long for him to switch screens from his phone list, to text messages, to browsing the internet and news for the latest updates in reports about the U.S. Military. As much as he hated his time in active duty, it was something he couldn’t just erase from his life. He engrossed himself in the news about the Ukraine and Putin Russia before he heard the sound of the entrance bell ringing and a _tap, tap, tap_ of feet crossing the floorboards.

“Benny? You there?” Castiel looked up and inwardly groaned at the turn of tides. For the third time, in a row, he sees Deanna facing aimlessly into the shop, waiting for this _Benny_ fellow. Benny… it couldn’t be. How many Benny’s did people actually know, no less name their child? But, Castiel was in for a surprise. Movement from the left caught his eye as a big bear of a man came walking through the partition, separating the kitchen and store room from the main floor. He was wearing a white Henley, a green apron hanging from his neck and tied around his waist. Castiel could see the suspenders dangling from the black, highwaisted slacks and it drew attention to the big, calloused hands that were wiping the front of the apron. The big, calloused hands that he so remembered from so long ago. He remembered the voice, the southern Louisiana drawl that was so different and distinguished in a land where no accent is from.

“Hello, _Cher_. What can I do you for, today?” Castiel looked and saw the man’s face. It was him, for sure. Benedict “Benny” Lafitte, Castiel’s bunk mate and closest friend overseas, the one man that could calm even the most struck nerve in Castiel’s body, the man he drew comfort from when he was scared and alone. Before he knew it, Castiel stood up, the screech of his chair drawing the attention from everyone around. Taking a step forward, Benny looked shocked, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. Castiel couldn’t believe it; he thought he would never see this face again. He thought he would never see his _friend_ again, one of the few that he had. Reaching his hand outward, Castiel felt as if he would cry. He honestly believed that Benny was _dead_. Said man turned completely over, ignoring Deanna for the slightest moment, before relaxing and striding purposely forward, and gripping the smaller man in a tight embrace.

“Benny…” Castiel wrapped his arms around the burly man, holding for dear life as if his friend would disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Hello, brother.” In a blink of an eye, Castiel felt the rush of all his pent up feelings from his past ebb away and completely dissipate. In all the years he’s been back, he doesn't think he has ever felt more at home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you got to the end of this chapter, it must mean that either:  
> a) you didn't like it, and you'll never read this fic again,  
> b) you're continuing reading it because you're awesome and you like it (*yayyyy*),  
> or c) you're bored as hell and you have nothing better to do, so you read my trashy fic.  
> (:  
> Don't worry, I know I have terrible self-esteem when it comes to writing.
> 
> For those of you who choose B, please leave Kudos and Comment (K&C for new characters!)? It will really make my day, and in fact, it really does make me smile. (This applies for both A and C. Just FYI.)
> 
> But yay, thanks again. It's going to be a slow and gradual process, but trust me; I'm determined.
> 
> I will try to update on a regular basis, but that honestly depends on how well this first chapter is received. So, if you could please...  
> *drumroll.*  
> Kudos and Comments.
> 
> (Remember guys, this is a friendly community! As much as I love this fandom, I really am kind of embarrassed when writing this stuff. I never really let anyone read my writing, so if I mess up or have mistakes, please just let me know.)  
> This is embarrassing, and I'm really excited. *Blush*


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